Monster (or why I shouldn't write when I'm depressed)
by Fallen-Angel-Spirit
Summary: I always thought that Fingon might struggle with guilt and in this I take it much further. This is sort of a purely imaginary (well, sort of based off myself) story exploring mental health. I struggle with guilt, even when I don't need to feel guilty. This is how I imagine Fingon being afflicted with the same problem. Rated M because I'm paraniod, and don't want to get in trouble.


I was in the barn, running the brush along Carniel's smooth sides. the horse nuzzled me as I worked...one of the only beings in existence that loved and accepted me. I worked in silence; my thoughts were for the slain, and those who were yet to meet that fate. The battle went so horrendously wrong. I was trying so hard to forget it but there was nothing I could do. I could still see, hear, smell, feel. Flames swallowing the plains...the screaming of elves, terrified, caught in the flames...burning flesh, hanging in the air...the sheer heat on my skin. Aikanáro, Angaráto, burning...lost. I had blisters on my hands from reaching for people in the fire...Carniel's tail was burned, and I had to put it out with my hands. It was so tempting for me to cave in and lose hope that any of us would survive this struggle. But I had to believe...for atar's sake, Ereinion's sake. I would fight for this, I would fight to the death if need be. I failed everyone already. I wouldn't fail them again.

I was so eager to follow Maitimo to Endore, to see Arda in all its glory. The oath sworn that fateful day in Tirion haunted my mind, but my impetuousness overpowered my common sense. I rushed into the kinslaying without thought or reason, blinded by anger at the sight of battle. I only wanted to help my cousins. I only wanted to protect my family. They couldn't even look me in the eye after that. Amme refused to see me...she walked away without ever saying goodbye. Írissë shunned me, giving only dirty looks when she thought I wasn't looking. Turukáno came close, but would not acknowledge me beyond when he had to. He tried to steel his face, but I saw the revulsion beneath the mask. He made absolutely sure Elenwë and Itarillë were nowhere near me at any time. And atar...my atar, my idol, my rock...when he realized what I had done he was horrified. I saw it plain on his face just as I saw Turukáno's repulsion. But still he held me, wrapped me in his strong arms and held me so tight, murmuring comforting words in my ear as I cried and cried, the salty tears mixing with the blood on my face.

I am a monster.

Atar tried not to speak of the kinslaying again, or at least not in my presence. I knew he hated me for it. How could anyone not? I followed my cousin yet again and rescued him from Morgoth, and the people saw that as a great feat of valour. My family only despised me even more. Turukáno and Írissë and Itarillë left, just like everyone else. Even Maitimo and his brothers moved as far away from me as possible. The only family who fully understood what I had done, and they left. Atar didn't want me around, I knew he didn't. I avoided him as much as possible...living in the same city, I only ever went to his council meetings and feasts out of necessity. I wanted to redeem myself so badly...but I knew that nothing would be enough.

I threw myself into fighting Morgoth, slaying hundreds of orcs, wargs, everything that stood against me. I suffered wound after wound, tended by strangers. I married a maiden seeking love, instead finding apathy and eventually open hatred. I so desperately wanted to feel loved, and to love in return. But that could never have been found in the arms of a woman who only married me because of my status. Again I acted without thinking. Once again, I found myself rejected and alone, loathed by all. Stupid, stupid monster.

Then Ereinion came. He became my life; I devoted everything to him. In him I found love again...I knew he adored me as much as I did him. His face, hands, smile, frown, the way he held my forehead to his and the way he told me every day that he loved me. He was beloved by all and through that I re-discovered long buried connections with family. The only good thing I was ever able to give my family...I hoped beyond all that it was enough.

I was lost in thought and Carniel half asleep when a noise caught his attention and he swung his great head round to stare through his stable door, startling me into the present. Moment later I heard rapid footsteps and a harsh voice barking orders. Atar...I wanted to go to him but he didn't want abominations like me. I stayed with Carniel, who, like Ereinion, loved me unconditionally. The large stallion, so fearless and brave in battle, who I had had-reared from a spindly, weak newborn foal. I tried, for the thousandth time, to tell myself that Ereinion and Carniel loved me and that was enough.

It was never enough.

I stayed for hours in Carniel's stable, brushing and when he tired of that just sitting in the corner in companionable silence. Eventually I must have managed to ignore my guilt and pain and shame long enough for sleep to claim me. Carniel watched out for me...he always did, the only one that did. The scrap of peace I had managed to find was destroyed when Rochallor wheeled in the stall opposite and called out, barging into the stable door. He always knew when father was coming. But at this time? Early hours of the morning? I shut my eyes against the darkness and shrank even further into the shadows. Atar entered the stable as quietly as possible. He greeted Rochallor with a treat and tender, murmured words of praise and affection, seeking to quiet the large stallion before he began his ruckus. I realized then that he didn't want to be seen. I was worried then.

"Atar?" I said, standing up. His answering flinch pained me to the bone. Such torment you cause yourself, Kano; he despises monsters, hates your presence...why do you keep forgetting? He didn't acknowledge me in any other way. He rarely ignored me, and when he did it was bad. He was dressed in full armour, Ringil strapped round his waist. and his helm under his arm. He has no guard. He is going to do something stupid. I'm stupid, not atto...what is he doing? Before I pulled myself together enough to comment, he set aside the helm and swept down the aisle to the tack room. Before I could slide Carniel's door's bolt home after slipping out to follow, he was back. He slung Rochallor's gear over his door and undid the bolt.

"What are you doing, atar? Where are you going?" No reply. No acknowledgement. Atar hates me. I launched myself across the aisle and into Rochallor's stable. Don't ignore me. Why are you ignoring me? Then it hit me: atar, kind atar, brave atar, was going to challenge Morgoth. Everyone else had run, now it was his turn. Atar was not stupid like me. He had to know he wouldn't win a fight with Morgoth. No single elf could defeat a Vala. It was an excuse...an excuse to flee me. He loathed me that much. What is he doing? He cannot fight alone...he'll die. He can't die. I can die instead. Let me die. All I ever wanted was to protect my family. All I ever wanted was to be loved. Fear coiled in my stomach and threatened to choke me. I began to hyperventilate, and in my increasing fear I swung out an arm and caught hold of his arm. He stopped then and blinked as if he had only just noticed me, before turning back to the girth.

"ANSWER ME!" I half shouted, half pleaded, desperate now to stop him from doing whatever it was he was thinking about. He screwed up his face like he was in pain, but it didn't stop him from slipping the bridle over Rochallor's head and fastening the straps. Tears ran hot down my face.

"Don't go, atto. Don't go. I won't be bad anymore. I'll go. I'm sorry." I wasn't even sure I knew what I was saying. It didn't matter; he ignored it all. He pushed the door open and Rochallor barged out into the aisle, dragging atar with him and nearly knocking me over. I found my feet and hurried after them.

"Atto, no, please, no." I pulled on his cloak like I did as a child. Without looking he reached behind and knocked my arm away. Rochallor danced in the courtyard as atar pulled himself into the saddle. When I went to tug him again, Rochallor spun around wildly and his quarters hit me hard, winding me. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. Don't abandon me atto. Everyone else has. Not you too. Ereinion needs you. I need you. Ereinion...as he reached the gates, I summoned my strength and cried.

"Ereinion! What about Ereinion!"

Only then did he turn to me. Only then. He turned Rochallor to face me, and I saw his face streaked with tears.

"I'm sorry."

With a light touch of his heels, Rochallor flew through the city. Atto rode to his death; I couldn't stop him. I failed my family yet again. Now even Eren would hate me, and I had lost atto.

I didn't see atar again until Namo released me from Mandos. All that time, I believed that everyone hated me. I thought that atar had ridden to his death because of me...I thought he had taken his first opportunity to get away from me. I blamed myself for everything.

I never realised that I distanced myself from him, and that broke his heart. When he rode to challenge Morgoth, he rode so that he could save me and Ereinion, and the rest of our family. He ignored me for fear that if he listened, he would never have made it out of the stable and he was convinced that then we would all die. He never hated me, ever. He was only shocked by what I had done, quickly overcome by the desire to make sure I was safe and well. He never suspected what turmoil lay in my mind, else he would have helped immediately. I did it so well. He never knew. Neither did I.


End file.
